


a toast to no one

by klive



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst without plot, Is that a thing, M/M, kinda angsty, set during season 1 episode 1, this is just an excuse to write angsty klaus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klive/pseuds/klive
Summary: It never sat well with Klaus that he couldn't conjure up Five after his disappearance. Had he moved on so quickly after his death, was he lost even in death, or was he alive? He didn't know, but quite frankly, it hurt to think about it so he never did.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	a toast to no one

Reginald had basically written Five off. Told the others that by Five’s own action, he had gotten himself killed in some different time. _No great loss,_ he said to himself while within earshot of them. To say they were surprised by his words would be a lie, they knew he didn’t care for them on any level besides a scientific research stance, so losing Five was akin to losing a specimen. 

None of them took it particularly well. Luther and Diego seemed to push it down, throwing themselves into training and working themselves to get better. Allison and Vanya found solace in one another, Vanya even leaving the entryway lights on for Five, just in case he came back. Ben decided to hole himself away as much as he could, keeping hold of the books he and Five had been working through while they spent silent bonding time together. 

Klaus, however, seemed to take it the worst. 

He and Five had started, what normal teenagers their age would call “dating.” When really all they did would hold hands whenever they could and spend more time together after sneaking out of their rooms, much like Allison and Luther thought they so sneakily did. But Five and Klaus were sneakier, knew what hallways to turn into and with Five’s ability to blink anywhere he so wanted, well, he could do just that.

They just spent time enjoying one another, even if Five rolled his eyes and shook his head at Klaus’ words, he would sit flush against his lanky side and even let Klaus put his head on his. 

So, yeah, Klaus took Five’s disappearance hard. 

He didn’t like to use his power, didn’t want to train it up like Five so desperately wanted to do. Klaus didn’t want to bring more spirits forward. They were loud, they were angry, cold, and unforgiving, screaming at Klaus as if it had been his fault that they were stuck in a sort of unfulfilled limbo. But Klaus tried endlessly to find Five, focusing all that he could into projecting himself into that limbo-space and looking for him. Surely if Five was dead, he wouldn’t have moved on, right? He would have waited for Klaus to find him or find Klaus himself. He would have, Klaus just knew it.

Days had gone with no luck, no matter what he did, he couldn’t find Five anywhere, slowly starting to think that he had moved on, that maybe Five didn’t feel for him as much as Klaus did.

Reginald did, however, in a rare display of human emotion, have a painting done of Five. Large and pricey, placed right above the fireplace as one of the first things someone would see when they stepped into the living room. But they knew better. It wasn’t because Reginald missed him, it was a warning. _Disobey me again and see what happens. Look where Five ended up because he didn’t listen to me; dead._

It gouged at Klaus’ chest like a knife each time he walked into the living room. Oil paints couldn’t even come close to matching the striking green and greys of Five’s eyes, darting this way and that when he was fighting against the others, as if he was trying to plot their moves ahead. Playing chess while everyone was playing checkers. 

Now, seventeen years later, Klaus found himself sitting on the floor with a bottle of whiskey he had snagged from Reginald’s bar, staring up at Five’s painted smirk. “Look at this,” Klaus chuckled to himself, “you’d hate this shit, man. Why did the old man decide to have you laying on your elbow? I would say it looks douchey, but... it kinda fits, too.” He flicked the cap off of the bottle and downed some whiskey.

Five’s eyes stared just over Klaus’ head.

Klaus wasn’t sure if he felt more disturbed or comforted by the fact that his eyes couldn’t focus on him, follow him around the room as he stumbled in his own self pity and aching want to just see him again. 

“God, you’d think I was pathetic right now, wouldn’t you?” He asked Five’s portrait. “You’d call me it, too. Tell me to ‘grow up’ and ‘get over it, already’ as if you weren’t the one person I gave a shit about, here.” He circled a thumb around the lip of the bottle, dropping his gaze. He could hear Five’s voice saying just those phrases, clear in the back of his head as if he was standing behind Klaus, hands in the pockets of his Academy shorts. Or maybe his slacks. He wasn’t sure what Five would be wearing if he was Klaus’ age. He wouldn’t doubt that he would dress spick and span, not a single thread out of place. Or maybe he would wear casual civvies, jeans and a shirt he grabbed blindly from the closet. He also wondered what he and Five would have been. Would they have been living together? How long would they have been dating to this day? Just a little under seventeen years. 

“Or maybe you would have left me, anyway,” Klaus added sardonically, lifting the bottle again and meeting Five’s eye with tears pricking his own. He would blame the leftover pills in his systems for his emotional imbalance. No way he was already this bothered from almost twenty years of drowning out the memories of Five while also blocking out the constant screams of the dead, clawing at him for some sort of release.

“Ben said he couldn’t find you, either. I sure as shit couldn’t find you, I was lucky to bring him back as easily and quickly as I did, but Ben said you weren’t anywhere to be found. Which just further solidified my idea that you so easily moved on from here. From _me.”_ Klaus pulled his knees to his chest, hugging an arm around them as he drank more. “Maybe I was just too optimistic, hm? That maybe you loved me like I loved you. Of course we were just stupid thirteen year olds, how could we have known what love was?” He asked, just as quickly as he bunched up, he slid his legs back onto the floor, the thick glass smacking against the aged wood beneath him. 

Klaus ran a hand through his hair, wiping smudged eyeliner from his lower eyelid. “Well, nice chat, Fivey. I have more shit of Dad’s to steal. I’ll see you around, yeah?” He toasted to Five and pushed himself up to stand on unsteady legs, using the wall as his guide to the basement again.

All until a loud warbling noise drew everyone outside and after Klaus threw a fire extinguisher into the portal, it was like Five threw himself out of the painting, landing face first in the dirt and leaves. Klaus held his breath. 

“Shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> time to finally live up to my usernames' sake! i have another klive in the works but i wrote this doing a writing sprint... thing and liked it enough to post it. i hope you enjoyed!
> 
> as always, you can find me at: klive on tumblr! ask about fic requests, my DMs are open! i'll eventually make a page of request information of things i won't accept lol


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